


Spiritus Mundi

by jade2562



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian, No Deadnaming, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Natsuki, if any of you trapsuki stans read this im obligated to pee on ur computer, yes i'm jumping on that bandwagon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-14 08:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17505380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jade2562/pseuds/jade2562
Summary: Natsuki hates school. Natsuki hates rich people who think they're entitled to everything just because they have money. Natsuki hates her stupid, stupid face. And Natsuki hates that she doesn't hate Yuri, at least not as much as she wants to.A slow-burn-ish enemies to friends to lovers Natsuri fanfic. I'm aiming to provide some backstory to their feud and their tentative friendship, then move on from there.





	Spiritus Mundi

**Author's Note:**

> > Turning and turning in the widening gyre  
> The falcon cannot hear the falconer;  
> Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;  
> Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,  
> The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere  
> The ceremony of innocence is drowned;  
> The best lack all conviction, while the worst  
> Are full of passionate intensity.
>> 
>> Surely some revelation is at hand;  
> Surely the Second Coming is at hand.  
> The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out  
> When a vast image out of _Spiritus Mundi_  
>  Troubles my sight; somewhere in sands of the desert  
> A shape with lion body and the head of a man,  
> A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,  
> Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it  
> Reel shadows of indignant desert birds.  
> The darkness drops again; but now I know  
> That twenty centuries of stony sleep  
> Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,  
> And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,  
> Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
> 
> \- W.B. Yeats, "The Second Coming" 

Another morning, and another silent bus ride to school. No one ever sat next to her, which was alright with her; she didn't want the attention anyway. She fished a cookie out of her backpack and idly chewed on the stale pastry, breaking a chunk off. She hadn't gotten a chance to bake anything over the weekend, and she hadn't done her homework either, so class would be especially awful today. She had a protein bar in her backpack like usual, but she tried to save those for emergencies, and eating them made her feel gross anyway.

She watched the passing houses, people, and cars out the window with mild disinterest; she knew Sayori walked to school this way every day, even when it rained, but she got up so late that Natsuki never expected to see her until lunch. They didn't have many classes together, anyway, and Natsuki really just hung around her because Sayori shared her lunch with anyone who asked. It wasn't as if they were actually friends, or anything. They just talked sometimes, and maybe Natsuki thought her lazy-dressy style was cute, and stole her hair colour and style a few years back, but they weren't friends. Natsuki didn't like having those, since all they did was drag her down, and with how lazy Sayori could be she was definitely no exception.

The bus stopped for the last pickup of the morning, outside some ritzy gated community that Natsuki couldn't even dream of entering, let alone living in. She didn't understand why it got its own stop since so few kids there even went to her high school, given that they were all rich enough to attend some stupid private school with their parents' money. They didn't earn anything they had, but she had to fight tooth and nail for the little she got. It wasn't fair.

The students climbed onto the bus, quickly filling up the remaining seats as they always did. Right before the bus driver closed the doors a new student got on, a tall, elegant girl with long, purple hair. Her backpack was overstuffed and hanging off of her on one shoulder, while her sweater sleeves were pulled up to her palms. Natsuki was seething with anger and envy at the sight of her; the last thing she needed was another ritzy kid to bother her. She stuffed the remains of her cookie in her backpack for later and squeezed her eyes shut, silently willing the new girl to go away, and sit anywhere but next to her.

Of course, a moment later she felt someone sit next to her on the bus, and Natsuki huffed, slumped forward, and pressed her head into the seat in front of her. Nothing could ever go her way. This stupid, ritzy chick had everything she'd wanted handed to her on a silver platter and didn't have the sense to just _leave her alone._ It almost made her blood boil to think about. Tentatively, she opened her eyes and saw that the girl wasn't paying any attention to her, and instead had her nose in a book. Natsuki stifled a derisive snort. At least this egghead would draw some heat off of her, so she could have a normal day.

Before she had any time for any further musing, or even a nap, the bus stopped in the parking lot of the school. She stood up and grumbled under her breath, gently patting her hair to make sure her hair clip was still in place. She started to move and nearly tripped over the girl, who was still seated and reading her book despite the bus rapidly emptying out. She looked up from her book once Natsuki bumped into her and glared.

"What?" she hissed, marking her place with a bookmark and closing the book. She tugged on one sleeve, then the other, and from the looks of it the sleeves were starting to get worn down by it; some kind of nervous habit, Natsuki assumed.

"You're in my way," muttered Natsuki, glaring at the girl. She crossed her arms and stared down at the still-sitting girl, biting her lip in a way that showed one of her canine teeth, as if snarling. It had originally been a nervous habit of her own, but she liked to think it made her look intimidating, and so she did it as often as she could find an excuse to.

"And you're very rude." The girl stood up, holding her book in the crook of her arm, and left before Natsuki could reply, earning an irritated growl from the shorter girl. She stood up and hurried off the bus—into the pouring rain, with no umbrella. Her hair was quickly soaked, as was her backpack, and the water ruined her makeup as it streamed down her face.

She sprinted into the building, but the damage was already done, and her frantic patting and tousling did nothing to fix her hair, much less her makeup. She could care less about her backpack; she didn't bring her textbooks anyway, and her homework was half-assed to begin with. At least now she had an excuse for turning in a pile of crap to her teachers. What _wasn't_ okay was her makeup. She'd already been dreading school today, and without makeup it would be a nightmare. Even if it didn't do much to alter her appearance, it still made her feel more confident, and without it she felt... bare. She dropped her backpack outside the bathroom and ran in to appraise her looks, even as the bell rang and the other students headed off to their first class.

Natsuki gripped the bathroom counter and stared into the sink. It was okay. She'd be okay. All she had to do was look. She heard the bell ring outside in the hallway, but it didn't bother her; she just kept staring into the sink, watching each drop fall from the leaky faucet. All she had to do was look. All she had to do was look.

Her knuckles were turning white from how hard she was gripping the counter, but her gaze was still glued to the sink. Drip. Drip. Drip. She just had to look at herself, how hard could it be? No, she knew exactly how hard it was.

A deep breath, and then she looked.

Her face had mascara streaking down her cheeks, but that wasn't from the rain. She gently reached a hand up to her face to confirm; no, she was definitely crying. _Awful._ She hated crying; she didn't want people to pity her. She continued to study her appearance, trying to stay as detached as possible to avoid looking any worse—as if that was even possible, anyway. Her hair was wet and ruined, smoothed down and stuck to her face. She stared into the mirror, as if the reflection would attack her at any second, not recognising the face she saw. More staring, _what did she see?_ She'd forgotten to shave that morning, and already she was feeling nauseous looking at her stupid face. She balled her fists up as her vision went blurry and her eyes stung from the tears. If it meant she wouldn't have to look at that ugly face again, she'd gladly take a —

"Natsuki?" She looked over her shoulder in the mirror and spotted Sayori standing in the doorway, frowning. "Are you okay?"

Natsuki didn't respond for a moment, looking into the sink. She looked as if she might throw up for a moment, before she whispered out, voice hoarse, "Yeah."

Sayori frowned and walked in, standing next to Natsuki. Sayori reached up to put a hand on her shoulder, but she flinched away before she could, and Sayori pulled her hand away just as fast. "Natsuki, I know what it looks like when someone lies about being okay, okay?" She smiled softly, and Natsuki felt a bittersweet pang in her stomach as she understood the subtext of what Sayori was saying. "You don't need to lie to me. I just want my friend to be alright."

"I'm not lying," she said, her voice a bit steadier, though she still looked a bit sick. "I just... needed a minute to catch my breath." It wasn't a lie. There was no way she was going to—or even could—walk to class heaving and sobbing, but Sayori didn't need to know that.

"You look like a mess," said Sayori, still smiling. She reached into her bag and pulled out a pack of makeup wipes, opening them. "Do you have any makeup stuff with you?" Sayori leaned against the counter, and Natsuki turned to face her.

"... nah, you know I don't keep that stuff on me. Too much of a hassle, what with my..." She gestured vaguely, then leaned against the counter as well. She knew she was showing how awful she felt, but she honestly couldn't give a crap if she looked weak in front of Sayori. Sayori owed it to her to keep her mouth shut, at least.

For her credit, Sayori didn't comment on it, just wiping the smeared makeup off of Natsuki's face. She did her best not to look pathetic, but having your friend cleaning up the remains of your expensive (who was she kidding, it was only expensive for _her_ ) makeup is pretty pathetic no matter what way you look at it. "I still don't get why your... why he cares about that kind of thing. You're in high school, it's normal to wear makeup." Natsuki frowned, scrunching up her nose, and Sayori could tell she'd struck a nerve. "I'm sorry, I--"

"You should be," snapped Natsuki, moving away from Sayori and leaning on the wall instead. "Thanks for the help. I'll be fine." She left without another word to Sayori, ignoring her open mouth and outstretched hand, and snatched her backpack off the hallway floor once she left. She thought about trying to run to class, but she was already way too late for that to do anything but make her look even crappier. At this rate she should probably just get a tardy slip from the office, but her first period teacher was always late, so maybe she could slip in unnoticed.

Natsuki climbed up the stairs to the second floor, and felt ashamed at how winded she was by the time she reached the top. She briefly considered eating the protein bar she'd brought with her, but decided it would waste too much time and just continued down the hall to her class.

At 8:05 on the dot, Natsuki entered her mostly-full English Literature classroom, relieved to see that the teacher wasn't there yet. She headed over to her usual seat, and saw... the purple-haired girl from earlier, sitting awkwardly in the desk directly to her left. Thankfully, the girl didn't seem to have noticed Natsuki, given that her nose was stuck in that book again. She tried to take her seat as quietly as possible, but accidentally dropped her backpack on the girl's foot, which was sticking out into the aisle between their desks. Immediately, the girl looked up at Natsuki, then glared.

" _What_ is your problem? Are you _trying_ to be a nuisance?" asked the girl, irritation evident in her tone. "First, you run into me on the bus. Then, when you finally got to class, you could have sat in any other empty desk." She gestured to the rest of the classroom, which had quite a few seats available. "Instead, you sat directly next to me and then dropped your backpack on my foot. Was that supposed to be revenge, or something?" Natsuki looked angrier the longer the girl spoke, seeming as if she'd explode if even one more word left her mouth. The ticking of the clock was pounding in her head, and she clenched her fists, trying to wait out her rant.

Before Natsuki could respond, however, the door opened and her teacher walked in. The other girl quickly sat up straight and ignored Natsuki entirely, her nose as deep in her book as it was before, propped up between her and the teacher's desk. "Okay, everyone, let's get started with class," said the teacher, flipping open her gradebook to take roll. Natsuki laid her head down on her desk, trying to block the ticking of the clock out of her mind and get some quick rest. She did, however, lift her head up just slightly when she heard the teacher call out a new name after hers: 'Yuri Markov', right after 'Natsuki Marigold'. Sure enough, the girl next to her—after a brief wait for her to take her nose out of her book—looked up and raised her hand. Strangely enough, she seemed incredibly reserved compared to how she treated Natsuki. Did she just hate her, specifically, for some stupid reason?

She snapped out of her thoughts once the teacher finished taking roll, closing her gradebook and pulling out a stack of papers. "Okay, class! Today we're going to be starting a group project. Your assignment is to make a creative visual aid for the themes in the poetry of renowned poet and playwright..." Natsuki tuned out the instructions, staring over at the new girl—Yuri. What was with the total 180 in personality once the teacher showed up? Did this ritzy girl have some sort of complex, or is she just a suck-up? Once again she was pulled out of her musings by the teacher clearing her throat. "I'm going to be assigning you your groups alphabetically." Natsuki's heart sank in her chest—she'd always worked with the girl right after her in the roll. Maybe the teacher would make an exception? It's not like this girl even knew what the project was on, anyway, since she was a new student. Her classmates were paired off to work on their project, and slowly but surely the teacher made their way over to them.

Natsuki decided to speak up right before the teacher paired her and Yuri together. "Can I work with Sierra, Mrs. Blythe?" Her teacher frowned, and Yuri looked understandably agitated. "I mean, I just think Yuri might need to work with someone who understands the poetry a bit more, since she's new and all, and Sierra and I always work together..."

"No, I've already assigned the groups. If you two need help on anything, you can just ask me, or just _read the poems._ " The teacher stared down at Natsuki, and she couldn't help but feel as if she was being judged.

"Oh, don't worry, Natsuki. I'm actually rather well-acquainted with Yeats' works, especially his later pieces. I could probably even teach you some things, you know?" She smiled in a way that made Natsuki's heart skip a beat in fear. If the girl didn't hate her before, she definitely did now that she tried to ditch her.

Not one to back down, Natsuki retorted, "I don't think you could with your nose stuck in that book, egghead. I didn't think you'd even notice my existence since you were basically like a log on the bus."

"Excuse you? You were the one who wasn't looking where you were going, not me. I was minding my own business and you basically threw yourself at me!"

"Threw myself at you? Like I would want to be around a creep like you! I was trying to get off the bus, and you sat next to me without asking!" Their classmates were beginning to stare as their argument escalated into a shouting match.

"I didn't know I had to _ask_ to take the only open seat on the bus! It's not like I wanted to sit next to some crazy, fake-cutesy freshman with anger issues!"

"I'm not a freshman, I'm just short! We're in the same class, have you even been paying attention? And I don't have anger issues, you, you..." She balled up her fists, staring defiantly up at the taller girl, who was now standing in front of her. "You _bitch!_ "

The teacher moved to break up the argument once Natsuki started swearing, but Yuri spoke up before she could, looking unfazed. "Is this why no one sits next to you, then? Trust me, I won't make that mistake again. It's no wonder you don't have any friends with how you're acting." She glanced down at Natsuki's balled fists, held up as if she was going to hit something. "Are you going to punch me, then? Do it, maybe you're not as spineless as I thought." Yuri smirked, and Natsuki felt something snap inside of her as she threw her fist forward directly into the girl's stomach, knocking the wind out of her as she doubled over.

"That's it! _Both_ of you, out! You two," said the teacher, jabbing a finger in their direction, "are spending the rest of this class in the vice principal's office! If I hear that you fight on the way there, you're both failing this project." Natsuki tried to voice a protest but was silenced by a particularly nasty glare from the teacher. Yuri had recovered and was already stumbling towards the door, a hand still clutching her stomach. Natsuki just slung her backpack over one shoulder and followed her out the door. Neither were willing to disturb the uneasy quiet between the two, and so they walked to the vice principal's office in silence.

When they got to the office, the door was already shut, and so they had no choice but to sit and wait on the ratty couch that served as seating in the office's antechamber. Yuri, once again sitting strangely and reading her book, was leaning on the arm of the chair and sitting obliquely to maximise the distance between her and Natsuki. Natsuki, however, was sprawled out on the couch and laying her head down on the armrest to catch some much-needed shuteye.

The door finally opened a few minutes later and the vice principal cleared her throat. "Come in." Yuri closed her book, marking her place with a bookmark, and nudged Natsuki awake. Both of them trudged silently into the vice principal's office, not willing to make eye contact with each other or the vice principal. "Now, why are you two here? I would expect something like this from Miss Marigold, but not you, Yuri. And on your first day? Tell me, what happened?" Her voice was sickeningly sweet in a way that made Natsuki want to gag. It's like she was regurgitating a cup of sugar, and she could feel it grating on her nerves already. Not to mention the fact that both her and Yuri shared that _annoyingly wordy_ way of speaking.

"We got in a fight, she told me to punch—" began Natsuki, before Yuri cut her off.

"I'm _dreadfully_ sorry, Ms. Crowley. We had a disagreement over something that happened earlier and let our emotions get the best of us," said Yuri, trying her hardest to look dignified and composed despite her hands shaking. She pulled at one of her sweater sleeves to distract herself. "It won't happen again, I promise. Isn't that right, Natsuki?"

Natsuki was about to argue that it wasn't her fault at all, but a quick look from Yuri and then a glance at the vice principal's sympathetic expression made her just nod in response. So apparently she _was_ just another ritzy suck-up. Still, at least it worked in Natsuki's advantage this time. Maybe this one wouldn't go on her record.

"Oh, I understand _completely_ , Yuri." The purple-haired girl paled visibly, as if her words had some deeper, hidden meaning. "We all have those days on occasion, just try not to let it affect your schoolwork, okay? Do I need to write you two a pass?" Natsuki's jaw nearly dropped at how quickly the vice principal gave in. They were seriously going to get off the hook just like that? Yuri nodded and smiled, and they were both handed two filled-out pass slips. With only a wave between Yuri and the vice principal and no words exchanged, Natsuki and Yuri left to return to class, a confused expression never leaving Natsuki's face.

"What was that about?" hissed Natsuki, once they were safely outside the office and in the hallway.

"What was what about?" Natsuki just gestured back at the vice principal's office, and Yuri sighed. "I... know her. She's a—well, she's a family friend." Yuri grimaced, and Natsuki decided not to press further on that topic.

"So you're not pissed at me for hitting you?" she asked, grinning.

"Of course I am, I'm furious. But I did goad you on, and I'm very sorry for that. Besides, we still have to go back to class and work on that project." Her apology seemed _genuine_ , and Natsuki didn't know how to process that. How could she call her crazy and spineless and then offer a sincere apology? The once-angry girl was now just as shy and reserved as she'd been at the start of class, if not downright scared. "I'm also sorry for having an outburst when you... when I was in your way on the bus. I get... agitated, when I'm forced to stop reading. I'm very sorry." She offered a slight, uneasy smile, which Natsuki returned just as uneasily. 

Something about this felt off, and she couldn't figure out what. She decided not to bring it up and end the conversation on a lighter note as they reached the classroom. Yuri opened the door and Natsuki followed her inside, closing it behind them. They handed their passes to the teacher and took their seats; Yuri had already marked up her copy of the poems and was already dutifully dictating parts of them to Natsuki. "Yeats' 'The Gyres' is a demonstration of his views on the nature of history as cyclical: that everything at its core is simply a repetitive oscillation of forces of order and chaos," she began, before launching into an in-depth explanation of the poem that Natsuki only half-understood. Most of these words went completely over her head, but Yuri definitely seemed to know what she was talking about; she wasn't reserved or angry, just clear and concise and engaged. Was this really the same girl who she'd had a screaming match with earlier? It didn't seem like it.

The rest of the class went by in the same manner, with Yuri explaining the poems in excruciating detail and Natsuki trying her hardest to follow along. Eventually, it came time to decide on what to make for their project, and unfortunately this is where they clashed the hardest.

"So, this guy wrote about, like, a bunch of tornadoes and history and stuff? I could, like, bake a cake in the shape of a tornado and put a bunch of things from history on there, would that work?"

Yuri groaned. "No, and that's completely missing the point. It's too... cute. Yeats wrote about things like Greek mythology and the occult, not confectioneries."

"It's confections, actually. A confectionery is another term for a pastry shop," corrected Natsuki, glad to finally know more about something than Yuri did.

"What? No, confectionery is a general term for sweets." Yuri frowned and reached into her overstuffed backpack, rummaging through it. Natsuki shook her head, grinning.

"Nope. If you're using it that way, it's not 'confectioneries', it's still 'confectionery'. 'Confectioneries' means several pastry shops." Yuri harrumphed and pulled a dictionary out of her backpack, quickly thumbing through it until she found the right page, only to look between Natsuki and the dictionary in disbelief. "Told you. I know all about baking." She flashed a toothy grin and laughed, and the last of the obvious tension between them dissipated.

"Well, I guess you're right about that. Still, given that this is Yeats we're talking about, we should have something more... artistic. Since he described his poetic style as a coat, would you happen to know anything about sewing?" Natsuki shook her head, and Yuri sighed. "Neither do I, so I suppose that's out. Hm. This is more difficult than I thought."

"Maybe we should just do what everyone else will do and make a poster," suggested Natsuki, shrugging. "She said it had to be a visual aid, not that it had to be good or unique. Just do the bare minimum."

Yuri frowned. "Is that really how you think about these things? You're given the opportunity to make whatever you want for a school project, and you decide to not put in any effort?"

Natsuki laughed awkwardly. "Ah, well, when you put it _that way,_ it does sound sort of bad... You know what? I think you're right." Yuri smiled, and then Natsuki continued, "So I'm gonna make that cake." 

"No—ugh! No. We're not making an entire _cake._ Under no circumstances are we making a cake and bringing it to school."

"You wouldn't be making it," replies Natsuki. "Unless you know how to bake?" Yuri mumbled under her breath, then shook her head. "You're right, though. I'm thinking... cookies? Oh, we could do cupcake swirls!" Yuri looked at her annotated poetry sheets and thought for a moment, before nodding.

"I think that would work, actually. And then we could put the names of some of his poems on them? Can you do that?" Natsuki nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, I could probably do a word per cupcake. Maybe just some of the, uh, themes?" Yuri nodded, already writing up a list of words. She carefully tore a page out of her notebook at the perforation, handing it over to Natsuki, who skimmed over it before noticing a phone number at the bottom. "What's this?"

"I figured we'd need to at least be able to talk to coordinate the project. Unless you were planning on doing it all yourself?" Natsuki grumbled. Yuri had a point: even if she didn't want to talk to this girl outside of school in the slightest, she definitely didn't want to work alone on this project. She knew next to nothing about these poems, so it would be awful to try and piece together a project on her own.

"Fine, okay." She took out her cell phone and added the number to her contacts, before folding the paper up and tucking it into her backpack. "Class is about to end, you should pack up," she told Yuri, whose desk was covered in various books and notebooks.

"Oh—thank you for reminding me." They packed up in silence, and by the time the bell rang, Natsuki had already left to go to her next class.


End file.
